Minimum Viable Manhood

 

I got a new pair of shoes a few weeks ago. They’re Merrell Nova 3 Trail Shoes* and I love them. They’re super comfy and rainbow colored. Last week someone asked me why I, a cis-het white dude, bought rainbow running shoes.

The glib answer is that these happened to be on sale at REI, and I do appreciate a bargain. The slightly-less glib answer is that they’re really, really comfortable. They’re super light and very stable on my feet, and Merrell is one of the few companies that make toe-boxes that fit my weird-ass feet. The soles are also thin enough that I can feel the clutch pedal in my Subaru (I was unaware of how much this matters, but wow does it). REI only had my size in rainbow, so that’s what I ordered. But the real answer? A little more complicated.

I’m a big white dude with mostly white hair (and who is staring down a near future of having to start shaving my head; thanks, Grandpa Ted!). I have a forearm tattoo in a dead Germanic language; mostly wear Duluth Trading Co clothes, trucker hats, and Oakleys with bright red lenses; and I have a resting expression (particularly while thinking) that’s a pretty close approximation of a scowl. I think most people that know me would say that I’m a friendly, engaging, open, and safe person, but a stranger on the street could be forgiven for not assuming that I am. And I think about that a lot as I move through the world. I always have.

One of my goals for the summer is to get out on the trails a lot more. I don’t yet have a fully developed hiking crew, so I’m probably going to spend a lot of that time either alone or just with Denali. And if you’ve spent even a few minutes on social media over the last few months, you’re probably at least tangentially aware of the man vs. bear discourse that’s been everywhere. It has occurred to me that over the next several months, I’m probably going to pretty frequently run into people out in the woods who might not naturally assume that I’m a safe person to be around. Because, let’s face it, lone white men aren’t always particularly safe to be around, particularly for women and members of marginalized communities.

Shoes won’t change that. They can’t. There’s nothing that I can do to prove to any person, let alone a stranger, that they don’t have anything to fear from me.  But if I can do little things here and there that make me potentially less scary? Hell yeah. It feels like the clothing equivalent of crossing the street to avoid following a lone woman too closely at night, or sitting away from doors in rooms to avoid the perception of blocking egress. Minimum viable manhood. It’s not the only thing I’m going to do to try to demonstrate safety, but it’s a start.

But also, they look cool. Between my coral-patterned rain jacket, my pink Ken-core Hawaiian shirt, and these shoes, I’ve gotten more compliments and thumbs up on clothing choices in the last six months than my entire previous life, and that doesn’t suck either.

So happy pride, y’all.  Here’s to building a safer, more inclusive world (and getting out more to enjoy this beautiful place we live).**

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* Full review in a couple of weeks, probably.

** Is this virtue signalling? I really don't think so. But even if it was? We live in a country where vice-signalling is a huge part of the culture, to the point where I won't wear a Portland Thorns hat that I love because it's red, and at a distance makes me look like an asshole. And if you're going to use your clothing to signal anything, might as well be tolerance and openness rather than bigotry.